Desert Island Gems: Week 21

If you ask me, nobody's welded angst to barre chords better than Social D.

Social Distortion, "White Light White Heat White Trash" (1996)

Admittedly, I'm not much of a punk rock guy, but Mike Ness possesses such an impassioned snarl and a knack for writing brilliant hooks that never pander to the sweet tooth, it supercedes pithy genre tags. (While you're at it, check out Ness' terrific solo album, "Cheating at Solitaire.")

Purists may bristle at my selection of a latter-day Social D. record, considering the wide range of influence '80s barre-chord beaters "Mommy's Little Monster" and "Prison Bound" had on scads of SoCal punksters. But "White Light White Heat White Trash" is one of those heavy-vibe records that never fails to raise my hackles with its economy and precision and outright soul-shredding perfection (and this is where some credit should probably go to ex-Danzig/punk-journeyman drummer Chuck Biscuits, who brings his muscular, minimalist groove to the table).

Sure, mid-paced stomp "I Was Wrong" was the self-aggrandizing hit single we all remember, but two songs never fail to slay me: Opening cut "Dear Lover," a heart-stomped throb of a bitter breakup song, and the feedback soaked "Down on the World Again," its slashing chords the soundtrack to a beatdown, a bad day or a combination thereof, Ness spitting lyrics about being disillusioned, disrespected, forsaken and unforgiven -- and the next thing you know, you've hit 60 mph on a residential road, and ground down the enamel on your teeth.

There isn't a wasted moment on the whole album -- the distorted punkabilly waltz of "When the Angels Sing," the empowering "Don't Drag me Down," the the minor-key mid-tempo everyman parade march "Down Here (With the Rest of Us)." And underneath it all is Ness' painfully real, blood-sweat-and-tears gritty street vibe, the sense that the guy has seen the inside of a jail cell, has lived through a booze-soaked hell of hypodermic needles, switchblade knives and poverty. So maybe "Through These Eyes," with its three bulldozing chords, is the album's signature cut -- another one that goes deep, down to the plasma, the marrow, the heart.